


The Scars From Tomorrow

by TheCarmineWanker



Category: Winx Club
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarmineWanker/pseuds/TheCarmineWanker
Summary: Soulmate AU, oneshot
Relationships: Oritel/Stella (Winx Club)
Kudos: 2





	The Scars From Tomorrow

Stella was excited, to say the least. They had defeated the ancestral witches and restored Domino and, now, a month later, she and the others were back for the ball that was being hosted to celebrate the return of Domino. Guests had come from all over the Magic Dimension and the refreshments matched the diversity of the crowd. The decorations were stunning, too, and a wonderful chamber orchestra had been brought in from Melody. Stella considered herself to be an expert in the field of parties and events, and this one was a winner in her book.

An hour or two in, she decided to take a break from mingling and dancing and headed over to peruse the offerings of the refreshments table. As she nibbled on an hors d’oeuvre, she casually scanned the room, taking in the people around her. For a moment, she watched Bloom and Sky dance, then giggled when Flora tripped on the hem of her long dress, and then went back to taking in all of the beautiful decorations before her eyes landed on the king and queen. She found it kind of ridiculous how attractive they both were and, when she looked at them, it became really clear how Bloom had turned out as beautiful as she was.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when someone bumped into her. It was like it happened in slow motion: she began to fall, and, when she reached out to grab onto the table to stabilize herself, she accidentally slammed her hand down on a wine glass, shattering it and sending shards of glass into her hand. The culprit turned out to be Riven, who was nothing but apologetic, if a bit panicked, and tried to help her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it, but thank you.”

Stella stood back up and excused herself, dodging concerned guests on her way to the nearest bathroom. As she fled, she noticed there was some commotion across the room as well but ignored it as she focused on her injury and escape. Once she reached her destination, she started picking glass out of her hand, putting it on the counter in front of her. When she felt that she had removed all the glass and sufficiently cleaned the wound, she left to go let Bloom know that she was going to take this as a sign and ditch the rest of the party. Before she could get back, though, she was intercepted by Marion, who looked very worried and very pale.

“Stella, dear, come with me, please.”

She nodded once and did as told. Marion led her to a quiet room that was a good ways away from the ballroom. Stella hadn’t said anything, instead she just assumed that she was being brought somewhere for unnecessary medical attention, but she broke her silence when they reached their destination - a study where Oritel was waiting for them.

“Okay, what’s going on here?”

“Please have a seat.” Once again, she obeyed the order she was given and took a seat across from the king. “Darling, show her your hand.” Stiffly, he stuck his hand out, then opened it. Stella gasped. His hand was all cut up just like hers.

“As you fell and cut your hand, cuts opened on his as well. Here.” She took a damp cloth and started wiping the blood off both her husband’s and Stella’s hands to reveal an identical pattern of cuts.

“What? How?”

“It’s something I’ve only seen in old stories and legends.”

“And? What is it in those stories?” There was a long, tense pause before Marion answered.

“Soulmates. Tales of paladins who inexplicably find their battle scars and wounds on their lady loves and other stories of that sort.” Stella choked.

“But that’s impossible and you’re _married_ and-”

“Stella.” Marion cut her off. “We don’t even know if it really is that.”

“But what if it is?” Tears were streaming down her face and she could feel her breathing speed up and become more shallow. “What if fate has just decided that I need to fuck your husband or whatever or else we’ll end up both dying from the same injury at some point? What then?” Normally, she would never speak that way but, now, she was far too distressed to care about the shocked looks on their faces.

Before either of them could respond, she was out the door, racing back to Bloom’s room. When she got there, she slammed the door and slumped against it, hyperventilating as tears rolled down her cheeks. The one, agonizing thought that kept replaying in her head was that she was going to end up being the homewrecker responsible for breaking up Bloom’s parents when, after what happened with her parents, that was the last thing she would wish on anyone, least of all her best friend. The only other thought she had was that this would explain some of the mysterious scars she had from when she was a baby, but that only made it worse by adding another element of how this was predetermined and completely out of her control. She didn’t realize she had started rocking back and forth and digging her long, stiletto nails into her arms, deep enough to draw blood, until a knock at the door forced her to remove her hands and get up. It took everything she had not to slam the door when she saw that it was Oritel.

“I . . . wanted to check in on you. I know that was a lot to take in and you’re rightfully upset right now.” She suddenly remembered that the damage she had done with her nails would have also been done to him and she started to tear up again.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I just-” Before she could finish, her words were cut off by sobbing. Oritel pulled her into his arms and soothingly rubbed her back, offering her words of reassurance as she choked on her tears and whispered “I’m sorry” over and over and over again. Eventually, her breathing slowed, she stopped apologizing, and she dried her eyes, pulling away from his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I don’t normally get like that. It’s just that this whole situation is literally my worst nightmare.”

“Why is that?”

“My parents got divorced a while ago and it’s easily the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Now, if it turns out that we really are soulmates or whatever, then that’s totally setting me up to be the homewrecker who split up my best friend’s parents and made her go through everything I did.” By the end of her sentence, she’d started crying again.

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t even know if that’s what it is yet and, even if it is, I’m sure we’ll all find a way to deal with it.”

“But what if you’re wrong? What if it is that and what if there is no solution or whatever? What if we literally end up in a fuck or die situation because Fate just hates us or something?” He paused for a moment to think before responding.

“What if there was a way I could prove you wrong and put your mind at ease?” She perked up at that, wiping tears from her red eyes.

“Like what?”

“In what you’ve said so far, you’re jumping straight to sex as a worst case scenario but it also sounds like you are convinced that that might be the solution, whatever that might mean. So, what if we kissed? It would be a much tamer, less invasive way to test your theory than sex and, if nothing happens, then that would reassure you, right?” She hesitated and then nodded in agreement.

“That’s actually a good point. And if it’s for science, that means it doesn’t count, like, for real, right?” He nodded. “Then . . . okay.”

Before she could change her mind, she reached out and pulled him in for a kiss, feeling as her cut hand smeared blood on his hair. When their lips met, it was electric and, rather than going for a quick peck like she had originally intended, she found herself pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, high on the feeling it gave her. Eventually, she managed to pull away, panting. When she went to brush her hair out of her face, she froze. The cuts that had covered her palm were all gone, in their place was flawless skin, as though she had never been injured in the first place. She slowly raised her head, seeing her horror mirrored in Oritel’s eyes.

“Fuck.”


End file.
